::A dark, crimson mist descends upon the tomb, wafting with it the musty scent of death and passion. From the smoke a figure emerges: tall and pale is she, with skin of alabaster and hair of onyx, nails of crimson and piercing eyes of jade. Her upper lip, black as night, is curled slightly in a look of contempt at fragile mortal life, revealing one bleached canine not a hair short of two inches. It presses deeply into her lower lip, letting free a single drop of blood redder than a rose, redder even than the laviscous sins of a thousand devils. And as her living orbs gaze deep into yours, you know that her darkness has touched your soul, and you will never be the same again. Never rid of those eyes, never rid of that alluring taste of sinful pleasure on your tongue. You are hers.::
::Those sensuous lips part, and she speaks, in a voice like unto the wind through a graveyard that rustles the dead trees and speaks to the spirits of the dead.::
Greetings to you, mortal. I am Moonset Rogue, who is known as the Haunted Sinner. Do not come to me in supplication: I have no time for mindless worship. Do not raise your hand against me: I cannot be harmed by mortal words or deeds, and should you attempt such a thing the darkness shall surely devour you.
No mortal words may commune the pleasure and torment which is my existence; nevertheless, I deign to walk on Earth from time to time in order to share with you, the lowly humankind, the fruits of my endeavours. Please feel free to read them and review...